Book 4

So the gods sat in council beside Zeusupon the golden floor, and among them lady Hebepoured out the nectar; and they in golden cupsgreeted one another, looking upon the city of the Trojans.At once the son of Cronos sought to provoke Herawith mocking words, speaking sidelong to sting her:Two of the goddesses stand as helpers to Menelaus,Hera of Argos and Alalcomenean Athena.But these two sit apart and look onand take their pleasure; while for him smile-loving Aphroditeever walks beside him and wards off the fates of death,and even now has saved him when he thought to die.Yet the victory is dear-to-Ares Menelaus';but let us take counsel how these deeds shall be,whether once more evil war and dread battlewe shall stir up, or cast friendship between the two hosts.But if somehow this might be dear and sweet to all,then let the city of lord Priam yet be inhabited,and let Menelaus lead Argive Helen home again.So he spoke, and Athena and Hera murmured against it;they sat close beside him, and planned evils for the Trojans.Athena indeed was silent and spoke no word,sullen against father Zeus, and wild anger seized her;but Hera's breast could not hold her wrath, and she spoke:Most dread son of Cronos, what a word have you spoken!How can you wish to make my toil vain and unaccomplished,the sweat I sweated in my labor, and my horses were weariedas I gathered the host, evils for Priam and for his sons.Do it; yet not all we other gods will praise you.Then greatly vexed, Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her:Strange lady, what have Priam and the sons of Priamdone to you, so many evils, that you rage relentlesslyto sack the well-built citadel of Ilion?If you yourself could pass the gates and the long wallsand eat raw Priam and the sons of Priamand the other Trojans, then might you heal your wrath.Do as you wish; but let this quarrel not hereafterbecome between you and me a great strife for both of us.And another thing I will tell you; lay it in your heart:whenever I too, eager to sack a city,desire one where men dear to you were born,do not delay my wrath, but let me have my way;for I also yielded to you, willing though my heart was unwilling.For of all the cities beneath the sun and the starry heavenwherein mortal men upon the earth have dwelt,among them sacred Ilion was honored by my heartand Priam and the people of Priam of the good ashen spear.For never did my altar lack an equal feastof libation and burnt fat; for that is the honor we have won.Then ox-eyed lady Hera answered him:Three cities are by far the dearest to me:Argos and Sparta and Mycenae of the broad streets;sack these whenever they grow hateful to your heart;before these I do not stand against you, nor begrudge you.For even if I begrudge and do not let you sack them,my grudging accomplishes nothing, since you are far stronger.But my labor too must not be left unaccomplished;for I also am a god, and my lineage is from where yours is,and crooked-counselled Cronos begot me as eldest,both in birth and because I am called your wife,and you rule among all the immortals.Yet in this let us yield to one another,I to you, and you to me; and the other gods will follow,the immortals. So do you quickly charge Athenato go into the dread battle of Trojans and Achaeans,and to try how the Trojans may first, over the oaths,begin to do harm to the far-famed Achaeans.So she spoke, and the father of men and gods did not disobey;at once he spoke winged words to Athena:Go with all speed to the host, among Trojans and Achaeans,and try how the Trojans may first, over the oaths,begin to do harm to the far-famed Achaeans.So speaking he urged on Athena, eager already,and she darted down from the peaks of Olympus.As the son of crooked-counselled Cronos sends a star,a sign to sailors or to the broad host of peoples,a bright one; and from it many sparks fly forth —like this Pallas Athena darted down to the earth,and leapt into the midst; and wonder seized those who saw,both the horse-taming Trojans and the well-greaved Achaeans.And thus would one say, looking at his neighbor:Either once more evil war and dread battleshall be, or Zeus is setting friendship between the two hosts,Zeus, who is appointed steward of the war of men.So then would one say, of Achaeans and of Trojans alike.And she, like a man, went down into the throng of the Trojansto Laodocus, son of Antenor, the mighty spearman,seeking godlike Pandarus, if she might find him anywhere.She found the blameless and mighty son of Lycaonstanding; and around him the strong ranks of shield-bearingmen who followed him from the streams of Aesepus;and standing near she spoke winged words:Would you now obey me in something, wise son of Lycaon?Would you dare to send a swift arrow at Menelaus,and you would win grace and glory from all the Trojans,and most of all from king Alexander.From him you would carry off splendid gifts first of all,if he sees Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus,subdued by your arrow, mounting the painful pyre.Come then, shoot at glorious Menelaus,and vow to Apollo, Lycian-born, famed with the bow,to offer a famous hecatomb of firstborn lambswhen you return home to the sacred city of Zeleia.So spoke Athena, and she persuaded his foolish heart;at once he drew the polished bow of a wild ibexthat he himself had once struck below the chest,waiting for it in ambush as it came out on a rock,and hit it in the chest; and it fell on its back against the rock.Its horns, grown from its head, were sixteen hands long;and a horn-working craftsman had fitted them after smoothing,and after smoothing it all well he set on a golden tip.And he set it down well, after stretching it toward the groundand leaning it aside; and his noble comrades held shields before himlest the warlike sons of the Achaeans leap up beforebefore Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus, was struck.Then he drew the lid of the quiver and took out an arrow,unshot, winged, the bringer of black pains;and swiftly he fitted the bitter shaft upon the string,and vowed to Apollo, Lycian-born, famed with the bow,to offer a famous hecatomb of firstborn lambswhen he returned home to the sacred city of Zeleia.He drew together, gripping both the notched end and the ox sinew;he brought the string to his breast, and the iron to the bow.But when he had bent the great rounded bow,the bow twanged, the string cried aloud, and the arrow leaptsharp-pointed through the throng, eager to fly.Nor did the blessed gods forget you, Menelaus,the immortals; and first the daughter of Zeus, driver of spoil,who stood before you and warded off the bitter shaft.She held it off from his flesh as much as a motherkeeps a fly from her child when he lies in sweet sleep,and she herself guided it to where the clasps of the belt,the golden ones, held fast, and the doubled corselet met.The bitter arrow fell into the fitted belt;through the cunningly wrought belt it was driven,and through the richly-worked corselet it pressed,and through the belt-guard he wore, a defense of the flesh, a fence against spears,which protected him most; yet through even this it passed.And the arrow grazed the outermost surface of the man's flesh;and at once dark blood flowed from the wound.As when a woman stains ivory with purple dye,a Maeonian or Carian woman, to be a cheek-piece for horses;it lies in the chamber, and many horsemen have prayedto wear it; but it lies as an ornament for a king,both a glory for the horse and a boast for the charioteer —like this, Menelaus, your thighs were stained with blood,your shapely thighs and calves and fair ankles beneath.Then Agamemnon, lord of men, shudderedwhen he saw the dark blood flowing down from the wound;and Menelaus himself, dear to Ares, shuddered too.But when he saw the sinew and the barbs outside,his spirit gathered back again within his chest.Groaning heavily, lord Agamemnon spoke among them,holding Menelaus by the hand, and his comrades groaned with him:Dear brother, I swore oaths for your deathwhen I set you alone before the Achaeans to fight the Trojans,and thus the Trojans struck you and trampled the faithful oaths.Not in vain at all is the oath and the blood of the lambsand the unmixed libations and the right hands in which we trusted.For even if the Olympian has not accomplished it at once,yet he will accomplish it at last, and they shall pay with a great pricewith their own heads, their wives and their children.For I know this well in my mind and in my heart:the day shall be when sacred Ilion shall perishand Priam and the people of Priam of the good ashen spear,and Zeus the son of Cronos, high-throned, dwelling in the upper air,shall himself shake his dark aegis over them all,in anger for this deceit; these things shall not be unaccomplished.But dread grief shall be mine for you, O Menelaus,if you die and fulfill the doom of your life.And I would come to thirsty Argos most disgraced;for at once the Achaeans will remember their native land;and we would leave as a boast to Priam and the TrojansArgive Helen; and the plowland will rot your bonesas you lie in Troy over an unfinished task.And some one of the overweening Trojans will say thus,leaping upon the tomb of glorious Menelaus:Would that Agamemnon might so fulfill his wrath upon all,as now he has led the host of the Achaeans here in vain,and has gone home to his dear native landwith empty ships, leaving good Menelaus.So someone will say; then may the broad earth open for me.Then fair-haired Menelaus spoke, encouraging him:Take heart, and do not yet terrify the host of the Achaeans;the sharp weapon did not stick in a vital place, but before thatthe all-gleaming belt protected me, and beneath itthe waist-guard and the belt-guard, which bronze-working men had made.Then lord Agamemnon answered him:Would that it were so, dear Menelaus;but a healer will smear the wound and lay ondrugs that will stop the black pains.He spoke, and called to Talthybius, the godlike herald:Talthybius, call Machaon here as quickly as you can,the man, son of Asclepius, the blameless healer,so that he may look upon Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus,whom someone skilled with the bow has shot and struck,of the Trojans or the Lycians — glory for him, grief for us.So he spoke, and the herald did not disobey when he heard,but went along the host of the bronze-clad Achaeanslooking about for the hero Machaon; and he noticed himstanding; and around him the strong ranks of shield-bearingmen who followed him from horse-pasturing Tricca.And standing near he spoke winged words:Rise, son of Asclepius, lord Agamemnon calls you,so that you may look upon Menelaus, the warlike leader of the Achaeans,whom someone skilled with the bow has shot and struck,of the Trojans or the Lycians — glory for him, grief for us.So he spoke, and stirred the spirit in his chest;and they went through the throng along the broad host of the Achaeans.But when they came to where fair-haired Menelaushad been struck, and around him had gathered all the bestin a circle, and he stood among them, a man like a god,at once he drew the arrow from the fitted belt;and as it was drawn out the sharp barbs bent back again.He loosed the all-gleaming belt and beneath itthe waist-guard and the belt-guard, which bronze-working men had made.But when he saw the wound where the bitter arrow had fallen,after sucking out the blood, knowing gentle drugs,he sprinkled on them, which Cheiron once gave his father in kindness.While they tended Menelaus, good at the war-cry,meanwhile the ranks of the shield-bearing Trojans came on;and they again put on their armor, and remembered their battle-fury.Then you would not see noble Agamemnon sleepingnor cowering, nor unwilling to fight,but hurrying greatly into the glory-giving battle.For he left his horses and his chariot inlaid with bronze;and a squire held them apart, snorting,Eurymedon, son of Ptolemaeus, son of Peiraeus;and he charged him very much to hold them near wheneverweariness should seize his limbs as he ranged through many ranks;but he went on foot, ranging through the ranks of men.And those of the swift-horsed Danaans he saw hurrying,them he encouraged greatly, standing beside them with words:Argives, do not yet slacken your furious valor;for father Zeus will not be a helper to liars,but those who first did harm over the oaths —their own tender flesh the vultures shall eat,and we shall lead away their dear wives and infant childrenin our ships, when we have taken their citadel.And any he saw slackening from hateful war,them he would rebuke greatly with angry words:Argives, archers, men of shame, are you not ashamed?Why do you stand thus dumbfounded like fawns,which, when they are wearied running over a great plain,stand still, and no valor comes into their hearts?So you stand dumbfounded and do not fight.Or do you wait for the Trojans to come near, where the shipswith good sterns are drawn up on the shore of the gray sea,so that you may see whether the son of Cronos holds his hand over you?So he, ranging as lord, went through the ranks of men;and he came to the Cretans, going through the throng of men.And they were arming around the wise Idomeneus;Idomeneus among the foremost fighters, like a boar in valor,and Meriones urging on the hindmost ranks.Seeing them, Agamemnon, lord of men, rejoiced,and at once spoke to Idomeneus with gentle words:Idomeneus, I honor you above the swift-horsed Danaansboth in war and in other work,and at the feast, when the elders' flaming winethe best of the Argives mix in the bowl.For even if the other long-haired Achaeansdrink their measured cup, your cup always standsfuller, as mine does, to drink when your heart bids.But rouse yourself to war, such as you claim to have been before.Then Idomeneus, leader of the Cretans, answered him:Son of Atreus, I shall be a very trusty comradeto you, as I first promised and nodded assent;but rouse the other long-haired Achaeansso that we may fight as quickly as possible, since the Trojans have poured outthe oaths; and for them death and sorrows hereaftershall be, since they first did harm over the oaths.So he spoke, and the son of Atreus passed on, glad at heart.He came to the Ajaxes, going through the throng of men;and the two were arming, and with them followed a cloud of footmen.As when from a lookout a goatherd sees a cloudcoming over the deep under the onset of the West Wind;and to him, being far off, it seems blacker than pitchas it comes over the deep, and it brings a great squall,and he shudders at the sight, and drives his flock under a cave —like this, with the Ajaxes, of Zeus-nourished young menthe dense phalanxes moved into hostile war,dark, bristling with shields and with spears.And seeing them, lord Agamemnon rejoiced,and speaking he addressed them with winged words:Ajaxes, leaders of the bronze-clad Argives,you two — for it is not fitting to urge you, and I do not command it —for you yourselves bid the host fight mightily.O father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,may such a spirit be in the breasts of all;then the city of lord Priam would soon sinktaken and sacked beneath our hands.So speaking he left them there, and went on to others;there he found Nestor, the clear-voiced orator of the Pylians,marshalling his comrades and urging them to fight,around great Pelagon and Alastor and Chromiusand lord Haemon and Bias, shepherd of the people;first he set the horsemen with their horses and chariots,and behind them he set the footmen, many and brave,to be a fence of war; and the cowards he drove into the middle,so that even one unwilling might fight from necessity.First he charged the horsemen; for he bade themhold their swift horses in check and not be thrown into confusion in the crowd:and let no one, trusting in his horsemanship and his valor,be eager to fight the Trojans alone before the others,nor fall back; for you will be the weaker.And whichever man comes from his own chariot to another's,let him thrust with his spear, for thus it is far better.Thus did men of old sack cities and walls,holding this mind and spirit in their breasts.So the old man urged them, long skilled in wars;and seeing him, lord Agamemnon rejoiced,and speaking he addressed him with winged words:Old man, would that as your spirit is in your dear breast,so your knees might follow, and your strength be steadfast;but hateful old age wears you down. Would that some otherof men had it, and you were among the younger men.Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:Son of Atreus, I too would very much wishto be as I was when I killed noble Ereuthalion.But the gods did not give all things at once to men:if I was young then, now old age attends me.But even so I will be among the horsemen and will command themwith counsel and with words; for that is the honor of the old.The spears are wielded by the younger men, who areborn later than I and trust in their strength.So he spoke, and the son of Atreus passed on, glad at heart.He found Menestheus, son of Peteos, driver of horses,standing; and around him the Athenians, masters of the war-cry;and close by stood Odysseus of many devices,and beside him the ranks of the Cephallenians, not weak,stood; for as yet the host had not heard the war-cry,but newly moving together the phalanxes stirred,of the horse-taming Trojans and the Achaeans; and they waited, standing,for when another tower of Achaeans should come onand charge the Trojans and begin the war.Seeing them, Agamemnon, lord of men, rebuked them,and speaking he addressed them with winged words:Son of Peteos, Zeus-nourished king,and you, schooled in evil tricks, crafty-minded,why do you cower apart and wait for others?It would befit you two, being among the foremost,to stand and face the burning battle;for you two are the first to hear of my feast,whenever we Achaeans prepare a feast for the elders.Then you love to eat roast meats and to drinkcups of honey-sweet wine as long as you wish;but now you would gladly look on though ten towers of Achaeansshould fight before you with pitiless bronze.Then looking at him from under his brows, Odysseus of many devices said:Son of Atreus, what word has escaped the fence of your teeth?How can you say that we hold back from war, when we Achaeansare rousing sharp Ares against the horse-taming Trojans?You will see, if you wish and if these things are your concern,the dear father of Telemachus mingled with the foremost fightersof the horse-taming Trojans; but you speak these words idly.Then lord Agamemnon spoke with a smile,when he knew he was angry; and he took back his word:Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles,I neither rebuke you beyond measure nor command you;for I know that in your dear breast your heartknows gentle counsels; for you think the very things I think.But come, we will make these things right afterward, if any evil nowhas been spoken, and may the gods make it all as if it had never been.So speaking he left them there, and went on to others.He found the son of Tydeus, high-spirited Diomedes,standing among his horses and well-jointed chariots;and beside him stood Sthenelus, son of Capaneus.And seeing him, lord Agamemnon rebuked him,and speaking he addressed him with winged words:Alas, son of wise horse-taming Tydeus,why do you cower, why do you peer at the bridges of war?It was not dear to Tydeus to cower thus,but to fight the foe far before his dear comrades;so said those who saw him toiling; for I myselfnever met him nor saw him; but they say he surpassed the others.For indeed he came to Mycenae apart from waras a guest with godlike Polynices, gathering a host;for they were then marching against the sacred walls of Thebes,and they were begging greatly to be given famous allies;and they were willing to give and approved as they urged;but Zeus turned them aside, showing baleful signs.And when they had gone and were on their way,and came to the Asopus, deep with rushes and grassy with beds,there again the Achaeans sent Tydeus as a messenger.And he went, and found many Cadmeiansfeasting through the hall of the might of Eteocles.There, though a guest, the horseman Tydeusdid not fear, being alone among many Cadmeians,but he challenged them to contests, and won them alleasily; such a helper was Athena to him.Then the Cadmeians, angered, goaders of horses,as he went back set a close ambush, leadingfifty young men; and there were two leaders,Maeon, son of Haemon, like the immortals,and the son of Autophonos, steadfast-in-war Polyphontes.Tydeus dealt them an unseemly doom:he killed them all, and sent only one to go home —he sent Maeon forth, obeying the signs of the gods.Such was Tydeus of Aetolia; but his sonhe begot worse than himself in battle, but better in the assembly.So he spoke, and strong Diomedes said nothing to him,ashamed at the reproof of the revered king;but the son of glorious Capaneus answered him:Son of Atreus, do not lie when you know how to speak clearly;we claim to be far better than our fathers;we even took the seat of seven-gated Thebes,having led a smaller host beneath a stronger wall,trusting in the signs of the gods and the help of Zeus;but those men perished through their own recklessness;so never put our fathers in the same honor as us.Then looking at him from under his brows, strong Diomedes said:Friend, sit in silence and obey my word;for I do not blame Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,for urging the well-greaved Achaeans to fight;for glory will follow him if the Achaeanscut down the Trojans and take sacred Ilion,and great grief for him if the Achaeans are cut down.But come, let us two also take thought for furious valor.He spoke, and with his armor leapt from the chariot to the ground;and the bronze rang terribly upon the chest of the lordas he rose; fear would have seized even a steadfast-hearted man.As when on the loud-resounding shore a wave of the searises one after another when the West Wind has stirred it;on the deep it first crests, but thenbreaking on the land it roars loudly, and around the headlandsbeing curved it towers up, and spits out the brine of the sea —so then the phalanxes of the Danaans moved one after anotherceaselessly to war; and each of the leaders called to his own;and the others went in silence, nor would you thinkthat so great a host followed with a voice in their breasts,in silence fearing their commanders; and on all sidestheir varied armor shone, in which clad they marched.But the Trojans, as sheep in the yard of a man of great possessionsstand countless, being milked for white milk,bleating incessantly as they hear the voice of the lambs —so rose the war-cry of the Trojans through the broad host;for not all had the same voice nor one speech,but their tongue was mixed, being men called from many lands.Ares roused some, and owl-eyed Athena others,and Terror and Fear and Strife insatiably eager,sister and companion of man-slaying Ares,who at first rears her head small, but thenplants her head in the sky and walks upon the earth;she even then cast hateful strife into their midst,going through the throng, increasing the groaning of men.But when they came together into one place,they dashed together their shields, and their spears, and the fury of menin bronze corselets; and the bossed shieldsclashed against one another, and a great din arose.Then there was at once lamentation and boasting of men,of slayers and of the slain, and the earth ran with blood.As when winter torrents flowing down the mountainspour their violent water together into a merging gorgefrom great springs inside a hollow ravine,and a shepherd hears their roar far off in the mountains —so of them mingling there arose a cry and a toil.First Antilochus slew a helmeted man of the Trojans,noble among the foremost, Echepolus son of Thalysius;he struck him first on the ridge of his horse-haired helmet,and fixed it in his forehead, and the bronze spear pointpierced through the bone within; and darkness covered his eyes,and he fell as a tower falls in the strong clash of battle.As he fell, lord Elephenor seized him by the feet,son of Chalcodon, leader of the great-hearted Abantes,and dragged him out from under the missiles, eager to striphis armor as quickly as possible; but his onset was short-lived.For seeing him dragging the corpse, great-hearted Agenor,struck him in the side, which showed beside the shield as he stooped,with a bronze-pointed spear, and loosed his limbs.So his life left him, and over him the work of battlegrew grievous for Trojans and Achaeans; and like wolvesthey rushed at one another, and man clashed with man.Then Telamonian Ajax struck the son of Anthemion,the blooming youth Simoeisius, whom once his motherbore as she came down from Ida beside the banks of the Simoeis,when she followed with her parents to look at the flocks;therefore they called him Simoeisius; and he did not repayhis dear parents for their rearing, and his life was shortas he was subdued by the spear of great-hearted Ajax.For as he came first he struck him on the chest by the right breast,and clean through his shoulder the bronze spearwent; and he fell to the ground in the dust like a black poplarthat has grown in the meadow of a great marsh,smooth, but whose branches grow at the very top;which a chariot-making man cuts with shining iron,to bend a rim for a very beautiful chariot;and it lies drying beside the banks of the river.Such then was Anthemion's son Simoeisius, whom Zeus-bornAjax stripped; and at him Antiphus of the gleaming corselet,son of Priam, cast with his sharp spear through the throng.He missed him, but struck Leucus, the noble comrade of Odysseus,in the groin, as he was dragging a corpse aside;and he fell over him, and the corpse dropped from his hand.At him, slain, Odysseus was greatly angered in his heart,and he went through the foremost fighters, armed in blazing bronze,and came very near and stood, and cast with his shining spearafter glancing around him; and the Trojans shrank backfrom the man who had cast; and he did not hurl the shaft in vain,but struck the bastard son of Priam, Democoon,who had come to him from Abydos, from his swift mares.Him Odysseus, angered for his comrade, struck with his spearon the temple; and the bronze point passed through the other templeand darkness covered his eyes,and he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.Then the foremost fighters gave way, and glorious Hector too;and the Argives shouted aloud and dragged away the dead,and pressed far forward; but Apollo was angered,looking down from Pergamus, and he called to the Trojans, crying:Rouse yourselves, horse-taming Trojans, and do not yield the battleto the Argives, since their flesh is not stone nor ironto withstand the bronze that cuts the flesh when they are struck;and indeed Achilles, son of lovely-haired Thetis,is not fighting, but by the ships he digests his heart-grieving wrath.So spoke the dread god from the city; but the Achaeansthe daughter of Zeus, most glorious Tritogeneia, roused,going through the throng wherever she saw them slackening.Then fate bound Dioreus, son of Amarynceus:for he was struck with a jagged stone beside the ankle,on the right shin; and the leader of the Thracian men struck it,Peiroos son of Imbrasus, who had come from Aenus.Both the tendons and the bones the shameless stonecrushed utterly; and he fell on his back in the dust,stretching out both hands to his dear comrades,breathing out his life; and he who had struck him ran up,Peiroos, and stabbed him with his spear beside the navel; and allhis guts poured to the ground, and darkness covered his eyes.Then Thoas the Aetolian struck him as he rushed away with his spearin the chest above the nipple, and the bronze stuck in his lung;and Thoas came close to him, and drew out the mighty spearfrom his chest, and drew his sharp sword,and with it he smote him in the middle of the belly, and took away his life.But he did not strip his armor; for his comrades stood around,Thracians with hair on top, holding long spears in their hands,who, though he was big and mighty and proud,drove him from them; and he gave ground and staggered back.So the two lay stretched in the dust beside each other,one the leader of the Thracians, the other of the bronze-clad Epeians;and many others were slain around them.There no man who came to it could any longer find fault with the work,whoever was still unwounded and unstruck by the sharp bronze,if he turned about in the midst, and Pallas Athena led himtaking him by the hand, and warded off the rush of missiles;for many of the Trojans and Achaeans on that daylay face down in the dust beside one another.

The gods were sitting in council beside Zeuson the golden floor, and among them lady Hebepoured the nectar; and they with golden cupsgreeted one another, watching the city of the Trojans.At once the son of Cronos tried to provoke Herawith mocking words, speaking sideways in order to sting her:Two of the goddesses are helpers to Menelaus,Hera of Argos and Alalcomenean Athena.But those two sit apart and watchand take their pleasure; while for him smile-loving Aphroditealways walks beside him and wards off his fates of death,and now she has saved him when he thought he would die.Yet the victory is Menelaus' who is dear to Ares;but let us consider how these things will be,whether we will stir up evil war and dread battle again,or throw friendship between the two sides.If somehow this could be dear and sweet to all,then let the city of lord Priam be inhabited,and let Menelaus lead Argive Helen home again.So he spoke, and Athena and Hera murmured against it;they sat near him, and were planning evils for the Trojans.Athena indeed was silent and said nothing,sullen against father Zeus, and wild anger seized her;but Hera's breast could not hold her anger, and she spoke:Most terrible son of Cronos, what a word you have spoken!How can you want to make my labor vain and unfinished,the sweat I sweated in toil, and my horses were worn outas I gathered the host, evils for Priam and his sons.Do it; but not all we other gods will praise you.Then greatly vexed, Zeus the cloud-gatherer answered her:Strange lady, what have Priam and Priam's sonsdone to you, so many evils, that you rage relentlesslyto sack the well-built citadel of Ilion?If you could go in through the gates and the long wallsand eat Priam and Priam's sons rawand the other Trojans, then you might cure your anger.Do as you wish; but let this quarrel not afterwardsbecome a great strife between you and me for both of us.And I will tell you another thing; put it in your heart:whenever I too, eager to sack a city,want one where men dear to you were born,do not delay my anger, but let me have my way;for I also gave in to you willingly, though my heart was unwilling.For of all the cities under the sun and the starry skywhere men who live on the earth have settled,sacred Ilion was honored by my heartand Priam and the people of Priam of the good ashen spear.For never did my altar lack an equal feastof libation and burnt fat; that is the honor we have received.Then ox-eyed lady Hera answered him:Three cities are by far the dearest to me:Argos and Sparta and Mycenae of the broad streets.Sack them whenever they become hateful to your heart;I do not stand in your way for those, nor begrudge you.For even if I begrudge them and do not let you sack them,my grudging gets nowhere, since you are far stronger.But my labor too must not be left unfinished;for I too am a god, and my lineage is from where yours is,and crooked-counselled Cronos begot me as eldest,both in birth and because I am called your wife,and you rule among all the immortals.But in this let us yield to one another,I to you, and you to me; and the other gods will follow,the immortals. So do you quickly order Athenato go into the dread battle of Trojans and Achaeans,and to try how the Trojans may first, over the oaths,begin to do harm to the far-famed Achaeans.So she spoke, and the father of men and gods did not disobey;at once he spoke winged words to Athena:Go at once to the host, among Trojans and Achaeans,and try how the Trojans may first, over the oaths,begin to do harm to the far-famed Achaeans.So saying he urged on Athena, who was eager already,and she darted down from the peaks of Olympus.As the son of crooked-counselled Cronos sends a star,a sign to sailors or to a broad host of peoples,a bright one; and many sparks fly from it —like this Pallas Athena darted down to the earth,and leapt into the middle; and wonder seized those who saw,both the horse-taming Trojans and the well-greaved Achaeans.And one would say, looking at his neighbor:Either evil war and dread battle will come again,or Zeus is putting friendship between the two sides,Zeus, who is appointed steward of men's war.So then someone would say, of Achaeans and Trojans alike.And she, like a man, went into the throng of the Trojans,to Laodocus, son of Antenor, the mighty spearman,looking for godlike Pandarus, to see if she could find him anywhere.She found the blameless and mighty son of Lycaonstanding; and around him were the strong ranks of shield-bearingmen who followed him from the streams of Aesepus.Standing near she spoke winged words:Would you obey me in something, wise son of Lycaon?Would you dare to send a swift arrow at Menelaus,and you would win thanks and glory from all the Trojans,and most of all from King Alexander.From him you would carry off splendid gifts first of all,if he sees Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus,subdued by your arrow, mounting the painful pyre.Come then, shoot at glorious Menelaus,and vow to Apollo, Lycian-born, famed with the bow,to offer a famous hecatomb of firstborn lambswhen you return home to the sacred city of Zeleia.So spoke Athena, and she persuaded his foolish heart;at once he drew the polished bow of a wild ibexthat he himself had once struck below the chest,waiting in ambush as it came out on a rock,and hit it in the chest; it fell on its back against the rock.Its horns grown from its head were sixteen hands long;and a horn-working craftsman had fitted them after smoothing them,and after smoothing it all well he set on a golden tip.And he set it down well, after stretching it toward the groundand leaning it aside; and his noble comrades held shields in front of himso that the warlike sons of the Achaeans would not leap up beforebefore Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus, was struck.Then he drew the lid of the quiver and took out an arrow,unshot, winged, the bringer of black pains;swiftly he fitted the bitter shaft on the string,and vowed to Apollo, Lycian-born, famed with the bow,to offer a famous hecatomb of firstborn lambswhen he returned home to the sacred city of Zeleia.He drew together, gripping the notched end and the ox sinew;he brought the string to his breast, and the iron to the bow.But when he had bent the great rounded bow,the bow twanged, the string cried aloud, and the arrow leapt,sharp-pointed, through the throng, eager to fly.Nor did the blessed immortal gods forget you, Menelaus,and first the daughter of Zeus, the driver of spoil,who stood in front of you and warded off the bitter shaft.She kept it off from his flesh as much as a motherkeeps a fly from her child when he lies in sweet sleep,and she herself guided it to where the golden claspsof the belt held, and the doubled corselet met.The bitter arrow fell into the fitted belt;through the cunningly wrought belt it drove,and through the richly worked corselet it pressed,and through the belt-guard he wore, a defense for the flesh, a fence against spears,which protected him most; yet even through that it passed.And the arrow grazed the outermost surface of the man's flesh;and at once dark blood flowed from the wound.As when a woman stains ivory with purple dye,a Maeonian or Carian woman, to be a cheek-piece for horses;it lies in the chamber, and many horsemen have prayedto wear it; but it lies as an ornament for a king,both an adornment for the horse and a glory for the charioteer —like this, Menelaus, your thighs were stained with blood,your shapely thighs and calves and fair ankles beneath.Then Agamemnon, lord of men, shudderedwhen he saw the dark blood flowing down from the wound;and Menelaus himself, dear to Ares, shuddered too.But when he saw the sinew and the barbs outside,his spirit gathered back again in his chest.Groaning heavily, lord Agamemnon spoke to them,holding Menelaus by the hand, and his comrades groaned with him:Dear brother, I swore oaths for your deathwhen I set you alone in front of the Achaeans to fight the Trojans,and so the Trojans struck you and trampled the faithful oaths.Not at all in vain is the oath and the blood of the lambsand the unmixed libations and the right hands in which we trusted.For even if the Olympian has not accomplished it at once,he will accomplish it at last, and they shall pay a great pricewith their own heads, their wives and their children.For I know this well in my mind and heart:the day will come when sacred Ilion will perishand Priam and the people of Priam of the good ashen spear,and Zeus the son of Cronos, high-throned, dwelling in the upper air,will himself shake his dark aegis over them all,angry for this deceit; these things will not be unaccomplished.But dreadful grief will be mine for you, O Menelaus,if you die and fulfill the doom of your life.And I would come to thirsty Argos most disgraced;for at once the Achaeans will remember their native land;and we would leave as a boast to Priam and the TrojansArgive Helen; and the plowland will rot your bonesas you lie in Troy over an unfinished task.And one of the overweening Trojans will say this,leaping on the tomb of glorious Menelaus:Would that Agamemnon might so fulfill his anger on all,as now he has led the host of Achaeans here in vain,and has gone home to his dear native landwith empty ships, leaving good Menelaus.So someone will say; then may the broad earth open for me.Then fair-haired Menelaus spoke, encouraging him:Take heart, and do not yet terrify the host of the Achaeans;the sharp weapon did not stick in a vital place, but before thatthe all-gleaming belt protected me, and beneath itthe waist-guard and the belt-guard, which bronze-working men had made.Then lord Agamemnon answered him:Would that it were so, dear Menelaus;but a healer will smear the wound and lay ondrugs that will stop the black pains.He spoke, and called to Talthybius, the godlike herald:Talthybius, call Machaon here as quickly as you can,the man, son of Asclepius, the blameless healer,so that he may look at Menelaus, the warlike son of Atreus,whom someone skilled with the bow has shot and struck,of the Trojans or the Lycians — glory for him, grief for us.So he spoke, and the herald did not disobey when he heard,but went along the host of the bronze-clad Achaeanslooking around for the hero Machaon; and he noticed himstanding, with strong ranks of shield-bearingmen around him who followed from horse-pasturing Tricca.Standing near he spoke winged words:Rise, son of Asclepius, lord Agamemnon calls you,so that you may look at Menelaus, the warlike leader of the Achaeans,whom someone skilled with the bow has shot and struck,of the Trojans or the Lycians — glory for him, grief for us.So he spoke, and stirred the spirit in his chest;and they went through the throng along the broad host of the Achaeans.But when they came to where fair-haired Menelaushad been struck, and around him had gathered all the bestin a circle, and he stood among them, a man like a god,at once he drew the arrow from the fitted belt;as it was drawn out the sharp barbs bent back again.He loosed the all-gleaming belt and beneath itthe waist-guard and the belt-guard, which bronze-working men had made.But when he saw the wound where the bitter arrow had fallen,after sucking out the blood, knowing gentle drugs,he sprinkled on them, which Cheiron once gave his father in kindness.While they tended Menelaus, good at the war-cry,meanwhile the ranks of the shield-bearing Trojans came on;and they again put on their armor, and remembered their battle-fury.Then you would not see noble Agamemnon sleepingnor cowering nor unwilling to fight,but hurrying greatly into the glory-giving battle.For he left his horses and his chariot inlaid with bronze;and a squire held them apart, snorting,Eurymedon, son of Ptolemaeus, son of Peiraeus;and he charged him very much to keep them near wheneverweariness should seize his limbs as he ranged through many ranks;but he went on foot, ranging through the ranks of men.And those of the swift-horsed Danaans he saw hurrying,he encouraged greatly, standing beside them with words:Argives, do not slacken your furious valor;for father Zeus will not be a helper to liars,but those who first did harm over the oaths —their own tender flesh the vultures will eat,and we will lead away their dear wives and infant childrenin our ships, once we have taken their citadel.And any he saw slackening from hateful war,them he would rebuke greatly with angry words:Argives, archers, men of shame, are you not ashamed?Why do you stand like this, dumbfounded like fawns,which, when they are worn out running over a great plain,stand still, and no courage comes into their hearts?So you stand dumbfounded and do not fight.Or do you wait for the Trojans to come near, where the shipswith good sterns are drawn up on the shore of the gray sea,to see whether the son of Cronos holds his hand over you?So he, ranging as lord, went through the ranks of men;and he came to the Cretans, going through the throng of men.And they were arming around the wise Idomeneus;Idomeneus among the foremost fighters, like a boar in courage,and Meriones urging on the hindmost ranks.Seeing them, Agamemnon lord of men rejoiced,and at once spoke to Idomeneus with gentle words:Idomeneus, I honor you above the swift-horsed Danaansboth in war and in other work,and at the feast, when the elders' flaming winethe best of the Argives mix in the bowl.For even if the other long-haired Achaeansdrink their measured cup, your cup always standsfuller, as mine does, to drink when your heart bids.But rouse yourself to war, such as you claim to have been before.Then Idomeneus, leader of the Cretans, answered him:Son of Atreus, I will be a very trusty comradeto you, as I first promised and nodded assent;but rouse the other long-haired Achaeansso that we may fight as quickly as possible, since the Trojans have poured outthe oaths; for them death and sorrows hereafterwill be, since they first did harm over the oaths.So he spoke, and the son of Atreus passed on, glad at heart.He came to the Ajaxes, going through the throng of men;and the two were arming, and with them followed a cloud of footmen.As when from a lookout a goatherd sees a cloudcoming over the sea under the onset of the West Wind;and to him, being far off, it seems blacker than pitchas it comes over the sea, and it brings a great squall,and he shudders at the sight, and drives his flock under a cave —like this, with the Ajaxes, of Zeus-nourished young menthe dense phalanxes moved into hostile war,dark, bristling with shields and spears.And seeing them, lord Agamemnon rejoiced,and speaking he addressed them with winged words:Ajaxes, leaders of the bronze-clad Argives,you two — for it is not fitting to urge you, and I do not command it —for you yourselves bid the host fight mightily.O father Zeus, and Athena, and Apollo,may such a spirit be in the breasts of all;then the city of lord Priam would soon sinktaken and sacked beneath our hands.So speaking he left them there, and went on to others;there he found Nestor, the clear-voiced orator of the Pylians,marshalling his comrades and urging them to fight,around great Pelagon and Alastor and Chromiusand lord Haemon and Bias, shepherd of the people;first he set the horsemen with their horses and chariots,and behind them he set the footmen, many and brave,to be a fence of war; and the cowards he drove into the middle,so that even one unwilling might fight from necessity.First he charged the horsemen; for he bade themhold their swift horses in check and not be thrown into confusion in the crowd:and let no one, trusting in his horsemanship and his valor,be eager to fight the Trojans alone before the others,nor fall back; for you will be the weaker.And whichever man comes from his own chariot to another's,let him thrust with his spear, for thus it is far better.Thus did men of old sack cities and walls,holding this mind and spirit in their breasts.So the old man urged them, long skilled in wars;and seeing him, lord Agamemnon rejoiced,and speaking he addressed him with winged words:Old man, would that as your spirit is in your dear breast,so your knees might follow, and your strength be steadfast;but hateful old age wears you down. Would that some otherof men had it, and you were among the younger men.Then the Gerenian horseman Nestor answered him:Son of Atreus, I too would very much wishto be as I was when I killed noble Ereuthalion.But the gods did not give all things at once to men:if I was young then, now old age attends me.But even so I will be among the horsemen and will command themwith counsel and with words; for that is the honor of the old.The spears are wielded by the younger men, who areborn later than I and trust in their strength.So he spoke, and the son of Atreus passed on, glad at heart.He found Menestheus, son of Peteos, driver of horses,standing; and around him the Athenians, masters of the war-cry;and close by stood Odysseus of many devices,and beside him the ranks of the Cephallenians, not weak,stood; for as yet the host had not heard the war-cry,but newly moving together the phalanxes stirred,of the horse-taming Trojans and the Achaeans; and they waited, standing,for when another tower of Achaeans should come onand charge the Trojans and begin the war.Seeing them, Agamemnon, lord of men, rebuked them,and speaking he addressed them with winged words:Son of Peteos, Zeus-nourished king,and you, schooled in evil tricks, crafty-minded,why do you cower apart and wait for others?It would befit you two, being among the foremost,to stand and face the burning battle;for you two are the first to hear of my feast,whenever we Achaeans prepare a feast for the elders.Then you love to eat roast meats and to drinkcups of honey-sweet wine as long as you wish;but now you would gladly look on though ten towers of Achaeansshould fight before you with pitiless bronze.Then looking at him from under his brows, Odysseus of many devices said:Son of Atreus, what word has escaped the fence of your teeth?How can you say that we hold back from war, when we Achaeansare rousing sharp Ares against the horse-taming Trojans?You will see, if you wish and if these things are your concern,the dear father of Telemachus mingled with the foremost fightersof the horse-taming Trojans; but you speak these words idly.Then lord Agamemnon spoke with a smile,when he knew he was angry; and he took back his word:Zeus-born son of Laertes, Odysseus of many wiles,I neither rebuke you beyond measure nor command you;for I know that in your dear breast your heartknows gentle counsels; for you think the very things I think.But come, we will make these things right afterward, if any evil nowhas been spoken, and may the gods make it all as if it had never been.So speaking he left them there, and went on to others.He found the son of Tydeus, high-spirited Diomedes,standing among his horses and well-jointed chariots;and beside him stood Sthenelus, son of Capaneus.And seeing him, lord Agamemnon rebuked him,and speaking he addressed him with winged words:Alas, son of wise horse-taming Tydeus,why do you cower, why do you peer at the bridges of war?It was not dear to Tydeus to cower thus,but to fight the foe far before his dear comrades;so said those who saw him toiling; for I myselfnever met him nor saw him; but they say he surpassed the others.For indeed he came to Mycenae apart from waras a guest with godlike Polynices, gathering a host;for they were then marching against the sacred walls of Thebes,and they were begging greatly to be given famous allies;and they were willing to give and approved as they urged;but Zeus turned them aside, showing baleful signs.And when they had gone and were on their way,and came to the Asopus, deep with rushes and grassy with beds,there again the Achaeans sent Tydeus as a messenger.And he went, and found many Cadmeiansfeasting through the hall of the might of Eteocles.There, though a guest, the horseman Tydeusdid not fear, being alone among many Cadmeians,but he challenged them to contests, and won them alleasily; such a helper was Athena to him.Then the Cadmeians, angered, goaders of horses,as he went back set a close ambush, leadingfifty young men; and there were two leaders,Maeon, son of Haemon, like the immortals,and the son of Autophonos, steadfast-in-war Polyphontes.Tydeus dealt them an unseemly doom:he killed them all, and sent only one to go home —he sent Maeon forth, obeying the signs of the gods.Such was Tydeus of Aetolia; but his sonhe begot worse than himself in battle, but better in the assembly.So he spoke, and strong Diomedes said nothing to him,ashamed at the reproof of the revered king;but the son of glorious Capaneus answered him:Son of Atreus, do not lie when you know how to speak clearly;we claim to be far better than our fathers;we even took the seat of seven-gated Thebes,having led a smaller host beneath a stronger wall,trusting in the signs of the gods and the help of Zeus;but those men perished through their own recklessness;so never put our fathers in the same honor as us.Then looking at him from under his brows, strong Diomedes said:Friend, sit in silence and obey my word;for I do not blame Agamemnon, shepherd of the people,for urging the well-greaved Achaeans to fight;for glory will follow him if the Achaeanscut down the Trojans and take sacred Ilion,and great grief for him if the Achaeans are cut down.But come, let us two also take thought for furious valor.He spoke, and with his armor leapt from the chariot to the ground;and the bronze rang terribly upon the chest of the lordas he rose; fear would have seized even a steadfast-hearted man.As when on the loud-resounding shore a wave of the searises one after another when the West Wind has stirred it;on the deep it first crests, but thenbreaking on the land it roars loudly, and around the headlandsbeing curved it towers up, and spits out the brine of the sea —so then the phalanxes of the Danaans moved one after anotherceaselessly to war; and each of the leaders called to his own;and the others went in silence, nor would you thinkthat so great a host followed with a voice in their breasts,in silence fearing their commanders; and on all sidestheir varied armor shone, in which clad they marched.But the Trojans, as sheep in the yard of a man of great possessionsstand countless, being milked for white milk,bleating incessantly as they hear the voice of the lambs —so rose the war-cry of the Trojans through the broad host;for not all had the same voice nor one speech,but their tongue was mixed, being men called from many lands.Ares roused some, and owl-eyed Athena others,and Terror and Fear and Strife insatiably eager,sister and companion of man-slaying Ares,who at first rears her head small, but thenplants her head in the sky and walks upon the earth;she even then cast hateful strife into their midst,going through the throng, increasing the groaning of men.But when they came together into one place,they dashed together their shields, and their spears, and the fury of menin bronze corselets; and the bossed shieldsclashed against one another, and a great din arose.Then there was at once lamentation and boasting of men,of slayers and of the slain, and the earth ran with blood.As when winter torrents flowing down the mountainspour their violent water together into a merging gorgefrom great springs inside a hollow ravine,and a shepherd hears their roar far off in the mountains —so of them mingling there arose a cry and a toil.First Antilochus slew a helmeted man of the Trojans,noble among the foremost, Echepolus son of Thalysius;he struck him first on the ridge of his horse-haired helmet,and fixed it in his forehead, and the bronze spear pointpierced through the bone within; and darkness covered his eyes,and he fell as a tower falls in the strong clash of battle.As he fell, lord Elephenor seized him by the feet,son of Chalcodon, leader of the great-hearted Abantes,and dragged him out from under the missiles, eager to striphis armor as quickly as possible; but his onset was short-lived.For seeing him dragging the corpse, great-hearted Agenor,struck him in the side, which showed beside the shield as he stooped,with a bronze-pointed spear, and loosed his limbs.So his life left him, and over him the work of battlegrew grievous for Trojans and Achaeans; and like wolvesthey rushed at one another, and man clashed with man.Then Telamonian Ajax struck the son of Anthemion,the blooming youth Simoeisius, whom once his motherbore as she came down from Ida beside the banks of the Simoeis,when she followed with her parents to look at the flocks;therefore they called him Simoeisius; and he did not repayhis dear parents for their rearing, and his life was shortas he was subdued by the spear of great-hearted Ajax.For as he came first he struck him on the chest by the right breast,and clean through his shoulder the bronze spearwent; and he fell to the ground in the dust like a black poplarthat has grown in the meadow of a great marsh,smooth, but whose branches grow at the very top;which a chariot-making man cuts with shining iron,to bend a rim for a very beautiful chariot;and it lies drying beside the banks of the river.Such then was Anthemion's son Simoeisius, whom Zeus-bornAjax stripped; and at him Antiphus of the gleaming corselet,son of Priam, cast with his sharp spear through the throng.He missed him, but struck Leucus, the noble comrade of Odysseus,in the groin, as he was dragging a corpse aside;and he fell over him, and the corpse dropped from his hand.At him, slain, Odysseus was greatly angered in his heart,and he went through the foremost fighters, armed in blazing bronze,and came very near and stood, and cast with his shining spearafter glancing around him; and the Trojans shrank backfrom the man who had cast; and he did not hurl the shaft in vain,but struck the bastard son of Priam, Democoon,who had come to him from Abydos, from his swift mares.Him Odysseus, angered for his comrade, struck with his spearon the temple; and the bronze point passed through the other templeand darkness covered his eyes,and he fell with a thud, and his armor clattered upon him.Then the foremost fighters gave way, and glorious Hector too;and the Argives shouted aloud and dragged away the dead,and pressed far forward; but Apollo was angered,looking down from Pergamus, and he called to the Trojans, crying:Rouse yourselves, horse-taming Trojans, and do not yield the battleto the Argives, since their flesh is not stone nor ironto withstand the bronze that cuts the flesh when they are struck;and indeed Achilles, son of lovely-haired Thetis,is not fighting, but by the ships he digests his heart-grieving wrath.So spoke the dread god from the city; but the Achaeansthe daughter of Zeus, most glorious Tritogeneia, roused,going through the throng wherever she saw them slackening.Then fate bound Dioreus, son of Amarynceus:for he was struck with a jagged stone beside the ankle,on the right shin; and the leader of the Thracian men struck it,Peiroos son of Imbrasus, who had come from Aenus.Both the tendons and the bones the shameless stonecrushed utterly; and he fell on his back in the dust,stretching out both hands to his dear comrades,breathing out his life; and he who had struck him ran up,Peiroos, and stabbed him with his spear beside the navel; and allhis guts poured to the ground, and darkness covered his eyes.Then Thoas the Aetolian struck him as he rushed away with his spearin the chest above the nipple, and the bronze stuck in his lung;and Thoas came close to him, and drew out the mighty spearfrom his chest, and drew his sharp sword,and with it he smote him in the middle of the belly, and took away his life.But he did not strip his armor; for his comrades stood around,Thracians with hair on top, holding long spears in their hands,who, though he was big and mighty and proud,drove him from them; and he gave ground and staggered back.So the two lay stretched in the dust beside each other,one the leader of the Thracians, the other of the bronze-clad Epeians;and many others were slain around them.There no man who came to it could any longer find fault with the work,whoever was still unwounded and unstruck by the sharp bronze,if he turned about in the midst, and Pallas Athena led himtaking him by the hand, and warded off the rush of missiles;for many of the Trojans and Achaeans on that daylay face down in the dust beside one another.